Eugene and Ellie
by Luckynumber28
Summary: A glacial silence wedges itself between us. I pivot away from Eugene who stands stony and mute. I peer back over my shoulder to see him pull his pipe from his lips. Even though we graduated together, he seems so much older than me at that moment.
1. Lake

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of this and mean no disrespect to the veterans the miniseries was based on. I was merely inspired by the era and the story as told by HBO.**

* * *

**1946  
Mobile, Alabama**

The moon slants through the spring leaves, shedding a ghostly glow on the lake. Shifting in the passenger seat, the crickets humming in the tall grass outside the car, I settle my arm on the open window. I hear the click of a lighter and the smooth scent of expensive tobacco fills the cab.

"My father used to smoke a pipe." I idly fill the silence that has lain between us since we left the Ball.

Eugene says nothing but slowly exhales. I glance over and watch as smoke escapes his mouth in delicate tendrils. The elusive cloud dissipates in the faint refracted light. His face is veiled by shadow but I can tell he isn't looking at me. He hasn't since we got into the car.

"Why were you crying in the parking lot?"

The question shakes me. I feel an electric prickle at the base of my skull as I turn once more towards the window.

"I wasn't crying." I reply, rubbing the back of my neck.

He chuckles lightly. I sense him relax as he takes another deep pull from his pipe. It's as though he gathering his strength from the smoke. As if he needed strength to be alone with me.

"That's a lie." His lazy southern drawl drifts towards me on the cross breeze.

I peek over and see that he has laid his head back against his seat.

"What does it matter to you anyway?" I ask evenly over my shoulder.

"Because I know that back in high school you and Sid-"

"It's not like we ever dated." I snap, feeling a pang at the mention of Sidney Phillips.

Eugene lets out another light laugh, "I never said you did."

The pipe smoke is souring my stomach. Wordlessly, I step out of the car without shutting the door and briskly walk towards the edge of the lake. My expensive heels sink in the dirt. My mother will have a conniption if I come home with ruined shoes or a frayed hem on my best dress. However, at this moment of deepest humiliation, it would be a welcome distraction.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Eugene slams the driver's side door behind him as he jogs down to the water's edge, "Look, I didn't mean to upset you."

Crossing my arms over my chest, my white kid gloves gleam in the moonlight as does my powder blue dress. I had felt like a child at a birthday party next to the illustrious Mary Houston.

"You didn't." I flash a thin smile in his direction without making eye contact, "I was tired and ready to go home. That's why I was in the parking lot."

Eugene puffs again. He edges towards me with deliberate steps. He stands elbow to elbow with me, surveying the wrinkling spasms of starlight in the surface of the water.

"Why weren't you inside having fun at the Ball?" I ask, peeling the gloves from my hands and fighting the urge to throw them to the ground like bad memories, "Most of the boys who served could be found at every dinner party and dance within ten miles of Mobile for months after they got home."

Eugene shifts his weight on his feet.

"Its 1946, the party is over. I missed it." His tone is curt and he ends by taking a few furious draws from his pipe.

"_That_ party is still going on and will be until the wee hours." I offer, merely thankful to have the attention taken off of me, "I'm sure Sid could find you someone to dance with-"

"I don't want to dance." He snarls, "Damn it, why is everyone trying to get me to dance?"

Rendered speechless, I purse my mouth and clasp my hands in front of me. I have never had a man swear in front of me. It especially wasn't anything I expected from bookish Eugene Sledge. A glacial silence wedges between us. A barn owl calls out in the night. I pivot down the edge of the water and away from Eugene who stands stony and mute. Peering back over my shoulder, I see him pull his pipe from his lips. He swivels his gaze on me.

I can spy the heaviness under his eyes and lines around his mouth as his lips are drawn down. Even though we graduated together, he seems so much older than me. I try to remember what I have heard about his time in the service.

"Ellie, wait."

I stop. There is something so wounded in his expression. He paces softly towards me, his gaze falling to the ground. I face him, my gloves crumpled in my hands.

"You don't have to apologize." I offer, "I shouldn't have pushed you. I didn't want to talk about me is all."

A rare, true smile plays at his mouth. He taps the pipe on his open palm.

"I didn't want to talk about me either." He admits.

I nod, "Do you know if there are any snakes in this lake?"

He lets out a surprised bark of a laugh, "I'm not sure. I don't think many. There are always a few around bodies of water in this area."

"Leeches?"

"Possibly." He narrows his eyebrows with a grin, "Why?"

The idea blossoms with charming impulsivity. My heart beats a little harder in my chest. Taking a couple steps forward onto the sand bar, I tug off my shoes and unhook my silk stockings. With trembling fingers, I undo the buttons of my dress that line my spine.

I hear him inhale sharply and let out a nervous half chuckle as I tug my sleeves down, "What are you doing, Ellie?"

I let the gown drop to the damp sand and glance at him. Standing in my cotton slip, the night air nips at my skin. I'm shaking a little but it isn't from the slight chill of midnight. His jaw has slackened. I feel the heat rush to my face as his stare trails down my figure, my gauzy slip no doubt sheer in the moonlight. He runs a hand through his auburn waves.

"If neither of us want to talk about ourselves, I thought I might go for a swim." I am surprised at my own brazenness as I grin, "You can join me if you like."

Without another word, I wade into the lukewarm water. My toes sink into the silt that thickly coats the lake bed. I can't imagine how stupid I will feel if he doesn't get in after me. I push away the horror of that thought as I dip under the water.

In the taciturn stillness of the dark lake, I forget a moment about the thorn in my side. The thorn that bed itself the moment I saw Sid wrap his arm around the slender waist of Mary Houston. It had wedged itself deeper into my heart the moment I had glimpsed the ring on her finger.

I forget for a moment about the letters from across the sea. The confessions of fear and passionate commitments to me that Sid had made in those precious papers. I forget about how they had stopped soon after I received his last letter from Melbourne. His tone had turned distant and cool; too polite. I forget the last night before he left for training four years earlier. He had arrived at my door to say goodbye. He had asked to write me. I consented. Then he had kissed me, my first kiss, on the front porch of my parent's house in the purpling twilight.

I forget everything but the weightlessness. The heat of heartbreak cools under those moonlit waters.

When I surface, I see Eugene wading waist deep into the water. His nice suit has been discard by my dress on the sand. He grins before making a diamond with his hands and diving into the lake. He comes up spurting and treading water beside me. He shakes the dampness from his hair.

"What on earth has happened to you in the past few years, Ellie Mitchell?" He asks with a playful splash in my direction.

"Nothing actually." I answer honestly after a laugh, "I suppose that's why I'm here swimming in the moonlight instead of at a party I had no interest in to begin with."

"Well, I'm glad you chose to be here with me."

"Me too."

He holds my eyes, pearls of water dripping over his mouth and down his chin. He makes a stroke towards me, his gaze intent. He has that same look that Sid did that night on my parent's porch. Impulsively, I splash him before he can get any closer.

"Race you to the shore!" I holler as I furiously paddle away from him.

With my head start, I stumble up onto the shore. I can hear Eugene calling for me to wait. I gather my gown, leaving my shoes behind, and race towards the car through the grass.

"Ellie!"

I halt by the open passenger door, clutching my dress to my chest. Eugene comes up alongside me carrying his now ruined suit, water leaving trails down his chest. My arms crossed over my middle, I gnaw at my thumbnail. My teeth are chattering. Without a word, he drapes his coat over my wet shoulders and leans against the car beside me.

"Sid used to write me." I admit as I attempt to keep from quivering, "He wrote me a lot while he was over there."

Eugene makes an acknowledging hum in his throat, "What did he write you about."

"The war mostly. What he saw." I bite my lip, "He also liked to tell me he loved me. I think it was out of loneliness though."

"Perhaps at that time, in his way, he did love you." He replies squarely, surprising me with his answer, "When you are in the thick of it, your emotions aren't like they are at home."

"Clearly." I sniff indignantly and wipe some water from my chin, "You are going to be the best man at his wedding, aren't you?"

"I am."

"I am angry." I turn to him, the fervor of the emotion rising from my belly, "I'm angry that I still care. I'm angry that I give the both of them that kind of power over me."

Eugene shifts, kicking a stone with his bare foot, "I don't think he means any harm. Sid just doesn't think sometimes."

"Not like you, Eugene Sledge. You were always the smartest guy in our class." I nudge his shoulder with mine, training my eyes on the ground and taking a deep breath, "What are you planning on doing now that you are home?"

He turns with a sigh toward the car and sets his clothes on the black metal hood.

"Well for tonight," He takes the coat from my shoulders and gently tugs my dress from my hands before I can protest, "I will be getting back in that water."

I don't even have a chance to object before he scoops me up and trots towards the lake. I shriek as we fall headlong into the dusky water. As I come up gasping, I'm still holding onto his shoulders. My pulse quickens as I feel his hold on my waist tighten. I glance up. Eugene leans forward towards my mouth.

"Eugene," I breathe before he can kiss me.

"Yeah?" He replies with a shaky breath, our noses meeting and foreheads resting against each other.

"I think-" I struggle to straighten my thoughts, "I think you should take me home."

I dare lift my head and try to read his expression in the faint light. His brow is drawn down once more but mouth loose. He nods and exhales slowly.

"I think you're right," He admits with a slow smile before pulling our bodies closer together, "I don't think I could trust myself with you, Ellie Mitchell."

We make our way back towards the car. I tug my dress over my damp slip on the opposite side of the car from where Eugene is changing back into his suit.

"Eugene?" I call once I pull up my sleeves, "Could you come here a minute? I need some help."

Without a moment's hesitation, he is by my side, his dress shirt sticking lightly to his skin and hair dripping onto his shoulders.

"Just the buttons," I turn my back towards him, "They are tricky."

"Like this?" He asks, his tone the most natural it's sounded all night.

"I'm sure you've got it," I answer with a soft laugh. I can feel his nimble fingers at my lower back, his breath warm as it slides over the exposed skin of my shoulders. I struggle to keep the heat rising up my throat from clouding my mind, "Where did you see action while you were over there?"

His hands pause. Immediately, I regret my decision to ask him about the war and wish I could take back my query. However, he continues to work his way silently towards the last buttons at the top.

"That's a talk for another time," He replies gently.

His fingers leave goose bumps on my skin as he brushes my hair over my shoulder then leans in and presses his lips to the back of my neck. I don't have a chance to apologize or catch my breath before he walks over towards the driver's side.

"It's late, let's get you home."

I wear his coat on the drive home. As we drive in the quiet, I look over at Eugene sometimes to see his expression becoming more reserved once again. I can almost feel him closing off, walling me out of his thoughts. It isn't out of anger or hurt but I wonder if its fear driving him away. Mentally, I kick myself again for mentioning the war. Without looking at him, I take the fingers of his free hand. He allows me.

The house is dark as we pull up the gravel drive. We get out of the car silently, Eugene walking me up to our porch. Folding his coat over, I hand it back to him and meet his velvet hazel gaze. The corners of his eyes crease slightly as he gives me a half smile.

"Thank you," I abruptly burst with a shrug, "I really enjoyed this evening. I almost forgot about everything."

Eugene expression turns clandestine for a moment, yet not closed off, "I almost forgot too." He takes a step back towards his car, "Can I call you tomorrow?"

"Yes," I say and hope it doesn't sound too eager, though I know it did. I laugh, "So I'll be seeing you, Eugene?"

"I'll be seeing you, Ellie."

However, the whole next day, the phone never rings. And it doesn't for nearly a month.


	2. Tea

My mother has left the pile of old coats on the dining room table.

"The church's coat drive will only be going on for a few more days, Eleanor."

Mother sits in the breakfast nook, steam drifting off her freshly brewed cup of coffee. She dabs her cigarette on the tray in front of her and unfolds her napkin. She is pale this morning. I guess it was a hard night for her but I don't say anything. Gretta, our help, piles some scrambled eggs on a plate for me and leaves it on the counter as she turns to the bacon popping in a skillet.

"I have been begging you for a couple weeks now." Mother continues, spearing a slice of tomato and arching an eyebrow at me expectantly.

"I'm sorry." I mumble, picking up the plate and taking a seat across from her, "I've been busy."

Mother sighs, "You have been doing so well with the books for your father's firm. But I just…"

I look up and see that same face she gives me every time one of my childhood friend's announces their engagement. It's a cross between fear and pity. It makes her rapidly thinning face appear even more haggard.

"I will drop them off this afternoon." I blurt out, plastering a grin on my face before she can say anything about my bare ring finger, "Don't worry, mother."

Her expression relaxes and my smile fades slightly.

"You know where Doctor and Mrs. Sledge live?"

I swallow hard, "Of course."

"They are the ones collecting for the church-"

I stand a tad too abruptly and the chair scrapes loudly against the kitchen tiles.

"Mother, I said don't worry. I can handle it." I pause to kiss her on the forehead, "You rest today."

"I heard their boy Eugene is back from the war."

I set the plate down with a clank in the sink. Mother's tone is so hopeful, it turns my stomach.

"He was at the Ball." I try to keep my voice casual.

Mother peeks up from her plate with a grin, "He was always a nice boy."

I shrug and walk from the kitchen, "Yes, he was."

* * *

It is 2 o'clock by the time I pull into the shaded, circular drive at the Sledge's house. Spanish moss sways languidly in the honeyed tones of the warm afternoon.

I grip the wheel with my gloved hands, my eyes trained on the front door of their home. The heat rises to my face. Flashes of that night by the lake come rushing back. I try to swallow it down and prepare myself as I get out of the car. There is a chance he isn't even home.

"Ellie?"

My heart jumps up my throat as I glance over to see Eugene striding towards me across the yard. Stepping onto the driveway, he takes off a pair of sun glasses. My mouth goes dry as an awkward smile pulls at my lips.

"Hi." I manage stupidly.

"Eleanor Mitchell!"

I pivot sharply to see Mrs. Sledge descending the porch steps with her arms open.

"Your mother called to tell me you were on your way. It was so sweet of you to run these over." She tugs me into a light hug, "I haven't seen you since Eugene's graduation. You have grown into such a lovely, young lady!"

I manage to keep a smile, all the while feeling Eugene's eyes on me from the other side of the vehicle.

"It was my pleasure." I nod, "It's so wonderful to see you as well!"

"Home from University, I see?" She takes my arm and leads me onto the porch, "Eugene, can you fetch those coats for us, dear?"

"Sure thing, mother." He replies dryly.

I peek over at him before being nearly carried up to the house by Mrs. Sledge. For the life of me, I cannot read his expression. I try not to think about how desperate I must seem by coming to his house.

"I want to hear all about your time at school. University of Mississippi was it? Brave girl to go so far from home!"

Mrs. Sledge sits me in their front room by an open window with a few glasses and a pitcher of tea set out.

"So your mother said she is feeling so much better," Mrs. Sledge continues, "I am so thankful to hear that. We have been praying for her and your dear family."

"Thank you." I nod as she gracefully hands me a chilled glass, "We are thankful for the recommendation Dr. Sledge gave us for that specialist. We have seen a vast improvement."

"Your mother said that you left school to come home and help her." Mrs. Sledge glances over briefly as Eugene brings the overcoats in but I keep my eyes trained on her, "I told her she was so blessed to have such a thoughtful daughter. What were you going to school for over there?"

I am half shocked to hear Eugene enter the room. His mother motions to him to sit in the chair diagonal from me by the window. I ignore him.

"I was working on my degree in music education." I answer and sip the tea, focusing on the rim of the glass.

"Eugene recently went to Alabama Polytechnic to explore what options they offer," Mrs. Sledge looks at Eugene expectantly.

Eugene is slightly slouched in his seat, his hazel eyes intently studying his glass of tea. There are shadows in the hollows of his cheeks. He looks like he hasn't slept in days.

"It was certainly an enlightening experience," He concedes after a forced silence and taking a drink.

He peers at me over his glass. I quickly turn away.

"Polytechnic is a good university," I lamely reply, more for Mrs. Sledge's sake.

The front door opens. Dr. Sledge appears in the foyer carrying his Doctor's bag. He smiles politely as he enters the room. I stand politely. The light reflects off of his spectacles as he nods.

"Miss Mitchell, it's good to see you again. How is your mother?"

"She is well. Thank you sir." I reply as Mrs. Sledge rises from her own seat.

"Dear, there is something I have been waiting to discuss with you this afternoon and I fear it cannot wait." She walks towards him and looks over at me with a cordial smile, "Eleanor, if you will excuse us for a second."

Before Dr. Sledge has time to protest, she nearly pushes him from the room and scurries the both of them down the hall. I am left standing, clutching my gloved hands together. My smile drops so fast it nearly hits the floor. I thud into my seat.

Outside, there are a few mocking birds challenging each other for territory. Other than their war songs, nothing breaks the molasses thick silence in that room. I shift in my seat and reach for my glass on the table.

"I'm sorry my mother ambushed you." Eugene shatters the quiet, "It seems she thinks you'd be good for me."

He chuckles a little as he takes another drink. I glance over at him and keep my face expressionless.

"It's a shame she doesn't know I have nothing to say to you. I wouldn't have wanted her to go through all this trouble." I stand and walk briskly towards the foyer, "Please give her my apologies for leaving so soon. I must get back to my father's firm."

I march out onto the porch. He catches the front door before it shuts and follows me down the steps to my car.

"You may have nothing to say but I do." He states as he rides my heels across the gravel, "Ellie, wait."

"If you had something to say, you should have probably done so a month ago. Maybe given me a call or something. You know, like you said you would." I rip the car door open and get into the driver's seat.

"Ellie, stop." Eugene grabs the door and keeps me from closing it.

I glare at the steering wheel. The humiliation I had felt has turned into righteous indignation. With my jaw set, I grip the door but he holds it with both hands.

"Ellie, it was wrong of me not to call you."

I release the door and rest my hand in my lap to keep him from noticing it trembling.

"Would you look at me please?"

I turn my scowl on him. Again, I am struck by how exhausted he looks. He exhales slowly through his nose.

"Ellie, I need you to understand something. The other night was one of the best I have had in as long as I can remember."

"So?"

"Something that good has not happened to me since before the war."

"What something?"

"You." His tone loses its pleading quality and takes on a power I've never heard in him.

He stops and runs a hand over his face. At the sight of his struggle, I relax a little.

"I wanted to save you the frustration of dealing with a train wreck like me." He admits, his eyes dropping, "But it looks like I'm doing that anyway."

He shuts the door firmly and crosses in front of my car towards the yard once more. I glance at the key in the ignition but instead I open the car door.

"For what it's worth," I call over to him as I stand out of the vehicle. Eugene stops but doesn't turn towards me, "I'm not afraid. What's the point of something great if it doesn't scare you a little? I thought the other night- we- whatever that was could have been great."

He doesn't turn.

My throat knots up and I am shocked to feel the tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. Mortified by the emotion, I get back in the car and drive away.


	3. Best Man

The next day, after picking up my mother's medication at the Druggist, I drop into the Shopette for a cup of coffee. I'm not ready to go home yet, especially since my mother heard that I left the Sledge's without properly saying goodbye.

Mrs. Sledge had phoned to make sure everything was alright. She apologized for Eugene, without knowing for what she was apologizing. My mother did the same and then retired to her room complaining of a headache. One would think it was the presence of her daughter doomed to spinsterhood that was killing her and not the cancer burning in her blood.

I take a stool at the counter and pull my novel from my purse. Three girls I knew from high school take a booth right behind me. They are too engrossed in their conversation to recognize me.

"So has Mary talked to the florist yet? The one my mother recommended?"

"The one your sister used a couple years ago?"

"Yes, I thought they did quality work."

"Oh dear no, too much baby's breath." The girl named Catherine scoffs, "And the carnations! Oh no, that will not do."

"It's not like she's marrying the Governor, Cathy."

"It's not like she's marrying a street peddler either, Joan."

"No matter, the point is it's only a month away and as her bridesmaids we need to be more supportive and helpful."

"Has Mary said yet who Sidney has chosen for his best man?"

An odd silence descends on the table. With my back to them, I cannot see their faces. But I can guess the looks being passed between them. I gently stir a spoonful of sugar into my coffee.

"Please don't tell me-"

"He _is _his best friend after all, Cathy."

"But did you see him last month at the ball? He was positively dull. And what serviceman shows up at a formal function without his uniform? Where is his pride for his country?"

"Eugene never was like Sidney," Joan offers as I hear their waiter returning to their booth.

Their egg cremes and slices of apple pie are passed out and I glance over my shoulder. Catherine Harvey is still pinch faced at the news of Eugene being the best man. Her mousey friends look anxious sitting across from her, blending the ice cream down into their soda glasses.

"Well, of course I won't say a word of it to Mary. It's not her fault that her fiancé is friends with the town crackpot." Catherine twirls her finger over her temple for emphasis and rolls her eyes. Her friends giggle uneasily in response.

I put a quarter on the counter and leave without having taken a sip of my coffee.

As I push the door open and step out onto the sidewalk I nearly collide with someone. After getting my bearings, I glance up in shock to see Mary Houston. It's hard to believe she has gotten prettier since we graduated but it's true. She smiles genuinely and reaches out a hand to steady me.

"I am so sorry, I should have been paying better attention," She gushes without an ounce of counterfeit, "Ellie Mitchell! I haven't seen you in years, how are you?"

"I'm well," I manage while doing my best to regain composure. The diamond on her finger is reflecting directly into my vision, "I have heard I need to be giving you my best wishes for your happiness. When is the date?"

"In one month," Mary sighs and pushes the netting on her stylish hat out of her dark eyes, "I cannot believe how fast it's coming up. There is still so much to do."

"I can imagine." I shrug and swallow, unsure of how to make a graceful exit.

"I saw you with Eugene Sledge at the ball a few weeks ago."

I am struck dumb by her comment and can only manage to blink back. Mary gives a nervous laugh.

"He's a good man."

"I don't know him well." I concede.

Mary's expression chances to honest concern. It's enough that she is so lovely but to be kind as well, no wonder Sidney proposed as quickly as he did.

"You should try to get to know him, if you can." Mary smiles and grips my wrist, "He's been through a lot, Sidney has told me. If you could just give him a chance. He needs a sweet girl."

I almost tell her that he doesn't know what he needs but nod and smile back politely.

"Thank you. I must be getting home, I'm late already." I pull away, "Good luck with your wedding, I'm sure it will be beautiful."

"Thank you," She calls but I am already flying across the street towards my car.


	4. Internship

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews!**  
**pikapikacutiealley and littlemissanon1: Thank yall so much, you're too sweet! I hope you enjoy this chapter (:**  
**Potato: Haha, I think Ellie is good for Eugene as well but we will see about interactions between she and Sidney. Ellie has a healthy respect for herself and a growing one for Mary Houston so we will see what happens if Sidney gets a tad...confused... And there will definitely be flashbacks. Since the story is principally from Ellie's perspective, I haven't had a chance to include them very much yet but without a doubt, Eugene will when its his POV.**

* * *

Eugene is half awake on the wicker lawn chair in the yard. The leaves shift shadows behind his closed eyes. He hears the vehicle as it pulls up the drive but doesn't turn to look. He is listening to the war songs of the mocking birds as he has been for several days.

The car door slams and someone crosses the gravel. He half muses that it's Ellie Mitchell and he smiles ruefully before he pushes his sunglasses up.

"What in the hell are you doing out here, Sledge? Sun bathing?"

Eugene sits up and rests his elbows on his knees. He glances over at Sidney as he saunters across the grass, his hands in his pockets and eyes squinting in the midday glare.

"Shouldn't you be at work, boy?" Eugene chuckles, standing.

They shake hands then sit down in the shade.

"Mary sent me here." Sidney props his feet up on the table between them and drums the arm rests with his thumbs, "She wanted me to make sure you had a black dress coat if you are sure you don't want to wear your uniform."

"Ah," Eugene nods, "The eleventh hour. How are you feeling?"

"Well enough." Sidney chuckles.

The breeze rustles the leaves, dappling the manicured lawn with the trembling shadows of the branches overhead.

"How are you feeling, Eugene?"

Eugene is playing with his sunglasses. A grin slowly spreads across his mouth.

"Well enough." He glances over to see Sidney studying him, "Why?"

"We have just been concerned. Mary and I."

"Well tell that bride of yours that she doesn't need to be bothering herself about me. You both have enough going on." Eugene stands and restlessly walks over to the nearby oak, "Hey, what do you know about Ellie Mitchell?"

The silence that falls between them is expected. Eugene isn't bothered as he turns and braces his back against the trunk of the tree, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why do you ask?"

Eugene shrugs, kicking a pebble away, "Just curious."

Sidney shifts in his seat, "I remember her. We graduated with her, right?"

"Yeah," Eugene chuckles and glances up at his friend, "What do you think of her?"

"I mean she was always nice," Sidney rubs the back of his neck, "She's cute in her own way."

Eugene snorts, his gaze scanning across the yard, "I just remembered the two of you that last year at school."

"We didn't date or anything."

"I know, I just wanted to make sure it would be strange if… well-"

Sidney's face breaks into a half smile, "Shit Eugene, you carrying a torch for the girl or something?"

Eugene clears his throat and shrugs, "I was thinking about asking her out."

Sidney stands and walks over to his friend, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "Then do it, boy. It'd be good for you."

"It wouldn't be too weird for you, would it?"

"Nah," Sidney shakes his head good naturedly but his eyes fall hard on the ground, "Go out. Have a good time with the girl. You could use the distraction."

* * *

The next day, I rifle through one of the massive, grey file cabinets that line the room where I work. It had been my mother's job for years and the woman kept meticulous records. The more I delve into the paperwork, however, the more I find that much of it is unneeded clutter.

Upon finding the copy I was searching for, I bring it over to the small desk by the window. Outside, a steady, humid rain has been falling since dawn. Fat drops hit the tempered glass, nearly drowning out all other noises in the rest of the small town law office.

Picking up my lukewarm cup of coffee, I read over the type written text. My hand pauses midair, liquid nearly tipping over the chipped edge of the white porcelain.

There is someone speaking with my father in the next office over. Setting down the cup, I strain to make sure I am hearing correctly. It sounds uncannily familiar to Eugene Sledge. I take off my glasses and set them next to the stained saucer.

I pass by the half opened door as casually as possible and take a quick peek. His back is to me but I know its Eugene. The blood drains from my face.

"Eleanor!" My father shouts, clearly having seen me.

I cringe and pause.

"Eleanor, come here a second please."

Exhaling slowly, I gather myself as I enter his office. Eugene is in a black suit with a burgundy tie and his hair is neatly combed back. I swallow back the dread that he is here for a job interview. The last thing I need is my embarrassment concerning him facing me every day at work. He nods at me politely.

"Ellie, you know Eugene Sledge? Y'all were classmates, correct?" Smoothing out his thick, black mustache, my father puts down his sturdy mug of coffee.

"Yes sir," I answer and glance over at Eugene briefly, "How are you?"

"Well, thank you." He replies, meeting my eyes evenly.

"His father called me this morning, says Eugene here is looking for an internship to see what he thinks of the law while deciding what he wants to do." My father tucks a few pages into a brown manila file, "I said of course we could use a spare hand around the place. He'll be here regularly starting Monday. Could you show him around for a second, sweetheart?"

"I would but I am right in the middle of something-"

"It'll only take a second," Dad winks at me and holds out the folders, "Here are the final numbers on the Tripp case, by the way. When you get the chance, of course."

I plaster a smile on my face and take the paperwork, "Thank you, daddy. Just follow me, Mr. Sledge."

Eugene closes the door to my father's office after shaking hands with him. He follows close behind, casually dipping his hands into his pockets as we walk.

"So it's Mr. Sledge now, huh?"

"What are you doing here?" I whisper harshly over my shoulder as we pass a couple of the secretaries out in the main office space.

"Look, it wasn't my idea but after my dad suggested it, I thought why not. It gave me a chance to talk to you-"

Rumors spread like wildfire in a small work environment like this and his voice is carrying. One of the blue haired old women who has known me since I was in Kindergarten peers up from her desk over her thick rimmed glasses. We turn a corner and roughly pull him into the empty employee lounge by his forearm.

"You can't be talking about anything that happened between us here, okay?" I snap, walking towards the broad windows lining the far wall, "Gossip runs around this place like the dadgum plague."

"Fine, calm down." Eugene shifts his weight as I face him, the watery grey light drifting over his face, "I only wanted to say I have been thinking a lot about… us."

I want to cut him off and tell him there is no _us_ but cross my arms squarely over my chest. Lifting my chin, I arch an eyebrow expectantly. Eugene pauses, his gaze runs the length of me.

"You look nice, Eleanor," He admits, the boyish grin he had back in high school making a rare appearance.

To my frustration, I can't stop the blush from washing over my cheeks, "Just say what you wanted to tell me so we can get on with this tour."

"I want to take you out for real this time." He blurts as though it has been weighing on his chest like an anchor, "Without the impromptu night swimming."

I say nothing but relax a little as the grin surfaces once more on his face.

"Not that I'm saying I didn't enjoy the swimming," His eyes fall to the tiled floor briefly before meeting mine directly.

With a sigh, I lean back against the wall behind me and let my hands rest against the damp glass.

"Why do you feel like asking me now and not a month ago?"

His face grows stony once more as he crawls back into the shell of the man he has become, "I have been working through some things."

A stilted silence follows. I gather that is all I am going to glean from him concerning the matter. One thing is for sure, no one could call the boy an open book.

"What would this date entail then?" I venture quietly, my eyes on the table top nearby where a shaker of salt has spilled.

Eugene reaches out and rests one of his hands on the back of a chair, "Dinner. Movie maybe? Whatever you wanted."

"What is your favorite thing to do nowadays?" I find myself asking.

I want to know more about him, find a way to draw him out. Sitting in a dark theater with thirty other people doesn't really encourage intimacy. I can't help my curiosity concerning Eugene and honestly, I don't want to fight it.

Eugene shrugs, "I'm not sure."

"You seem to be outside a lot."

He nods, "There are some good places to walk near my home."

"Could you show me them maybe?"

I can't help my smile as I see him visibly relax at the idea, "I'd love to."


	5. Spectrum

"Your brother and his wife are nice." I comment after a few quiet moments of walking.

"They'll be staying for dinner as well," Eugene glances over at me nervously as we turn into a thick copse of trees, "I hope having supper with my family is okay with you."

I chuckle, "My mother almost kissed me when I told her what we were doing for our date. Apparently she thinks this means your mom is on the same page as her."

"What page is that?" He throws me a coy grin.

Shoving him playfully, I give a shrill laugh and cringe, "Oh lord, I need to stop talking. You tell me something."

"Tell you what?"

"I don't know," I shrug, "Do you want to be a lawyer?"

Eugene snorts as we pause at a small pond surrounded by elm trees, "My mother would love for me to become one."

"What about your father?"

We sit down on a log at the water's shallow edge that he is clearly familiar with, "My dad is very… patient with me right now. He told me to take my time figuring out what the next step will be."

"You're close to him, aren't you?"

He leans over and tosses a rock out into the middle of the pond, "Yeah. Are you close with your parents?"

"I was when I was little, at least with my mother. My dad has always been a little distant. Did you know your dad treated mine when he returned home from the war?"

Eugene turns to me, his eyebrows lifting in interest, "I didn't."

"He had a run in with some mustard gas and it almost blinded him," I continue, looking out over the pond that is glazed with the honeyed tones of twilight, "That's why he has that scarring on his temples. You don't notice it when he has his glasses on though."

"I didn't even know he fought in the war."

"He doesn't talk about it." I glance over when I feel his shoulder pull away slightly from mine, "I don't think I ever remember hearing him talk about it. I just know from what my mother has told me."

I can tell the subject matter is hitting too close to home for him. He stands and pulls out his pipe from his shirt pocket. I bite my tongue from impulsively asking where he got it in case it has something to do with his time in the war. His eyes grow distant staring deep into the shadowy woods, smoke drifting from the down turned corner of his mouth.

"What did your mother plan for dinner?" I ask casually to try and bring him back to the present.

Eugene stirs and glances over at me as though he had forgotten I was there, "Lamp chops I think."

I stand and walk over to him. His stance is still self-contained and stiff. I reach out and let my hand rest on his upper arm. It takes a moment but he relaxes under my touch. I trail my fingers down his arm and grasp his hand in mine. He doesn't draw away.

"You want to show me the rest of this path so we can get back in time to eat?"

He nods and takes the pipe from his mouth. He brings the back of my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. Though so simple, the action winds me with its gentleness.

"C'mon then," He leads me back to the path, the musical whir of the cicadas in the brush rising to meet us.

Mrs. Sledge had actually planned for veal Parmesan with garlic roasted potatoes and a garden salad. She beams from her end of the table, smiling back and forth at her sons as though both were already settled with nice girls. I wonder if all southern mothers acted like Mrs. Bennett from "Pride and Prejudice".

Eugene brushes my hand with his as he reaches for the basket of bread rolls. The back of his hand lingers on my fingers. I try not to smile.

"So Eleanor, my wife tells me you have been keeping the books at your father's firm since returning home." Dr. Sledge stabs a tomato on his salad plate and peers up at me with eyes as kind as his son's.

"Just until my mother is well," I reply with a confident nod.

"How is your brother doing in Louisiana? Medical school right?"

"Yes sir, he is doing very well over there."

Dr. Sledge pats his mouth with his napkin, "A fine young man. I remember writing up a reference letter for him back before the war."

"Did your brother see action?" Eugene's brother Edward asks affably from across the table.

I nod, swallowing a quick bite of bread, "He was wounded at Monte Cassino and sent home. He spent the rest of the war here but he's better now."

"I was in Europe also, awful fighting." Edward continues, wrapping an arm around the back of his pretty wife's chair, "Lost a lot of good men over there. I'm glad to hear he's home safe and in one piece."

Eugene shifts in his seat. Dr. Sledge notices as well and lifts a glass towards his wife, "Mary Frank, is that main course ready yet? It smells excellent from here."

I glance over at Eugene's hands. They are tensing on the white table cloth. His expression is edging towards that all too familiar distance. Without thinking, my hand drops to my lap. I reach under the table and grasp the middle of his thigh in what I believe to be an encouraging manner. However, it just startles him. His hand tumbles over and hits my wine glass, spilling it down my white shirt and all over the table. We both shoot out of our seats.

"Oh goodness," Mrs. Sledge cries, standing as well.

My face is burning as I glance over with a breathy chuckle at wide eyed Eugene Sledge, "It's alright, I think it will come out."

The women are fussing over me from their seats as Eugene takes a step back, running a hand through his hair with his mouth ajar, "I am so sorry,"

"Really it's fine," I repeat in the cacophony.

Mrs. Sledge instructs Eugene to bring me upstairs for a clean shirt so she can try to keep the stain from setting into my ruined one.

"I feel really awful, Ellie." He leads me up the dim stairwell, "I feel like a Class A idiot."

"Please, it wasn't your fault." I bite my lip and glance over at him, "I shouldn't have surprised you like that.

Eugene lets out a low chuckle, his hand resting on the small of my back as we reach the landing, "You grab a man's leg under the table without him expecting it and he's gonna jump. Just common sense, Mitchell."

Trying not to cringe, I bury my face in my hands, "Gosh, we do make a pair, don't we?"

"Some would probably think so," He says, his voice the most relaxed it's been all evening.

He guides me down to the room at the end of the hall. It's light enough outside that we can see without turning on a lamp.

"Is this your room?"

"Yeah," He opens up a drawer in the large bureau by the door, "At least used to be."

I don't inquire after his strange response but study the walls. There is a physical pain in my chest as I try to imagine the man he would have been today without the war. It's as though Eugene Sledge's destiny has been completely rewritten. Guilt drifts over me for having been safe within the confines of my own country while he absorbed the brunt of the mud and blood.

I wander over to his wardrobe, the door partially open. I run my fingers down the neat folds of his uniform where it hangs in the back.

"Why don't you want to wear it anymore?" I ask as he approaches carrying a clean shirt for me.

Silently, Eugene shuts the door, giving me enough time to remove my hand. I glance at him through the hazy early evening light. The warmth in his eyes has faded. Bracing my back against the wardrobe, I wait for a reply.

"It's nothing I'm able to talk about right now, Ellie." He manages.

I nod as he finally makes eye contact with me.

"Okay." I whisper.

My stomach clenches up as I am suddenly conscious of how alone we are up here in his room. The congenial hum of the Sledge family's conversation in the dining room drifts up the stairs but they seem distant. The same awareness dawns on him as the aloofness wanes from his face. My pulse quickens when he takes a step forward.

"Thank you." His voice has a husky quality to it as he lays a steady hand on my waist.

His hazel eyes are on the floorboards but he is close enough for me to smell the tobacco and hints of dry grass on his clothes. My breath catches in my throat as he reaches up and undoes the first two buttons of my ruined shirt. He presses back my collar and cups the arc of my neck, his thumb resting on the hollow of my throat. Leaning forward, he presses his mouth fully to mine for one heart-quaking moment.

There are footsteps on the stairs and he draws back quickly. My pulse is still thrumming in my ears as their help pass by the half open door and into the room directly across from Eugene's. I exhale slowly and glance over to see Eugene studying me in the soft gold of twilight.

"I should be getting back downstairs. My mother will be wondering."

"We don't want her thinking the wrong thing, I suppose." I breathe, throwing him a self-conscious grin.

"She wouldn't be wrong." He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, walking out into the hall.

* * *

Eugene grips the sheets. He knows he isn't there anymore, that the acrid horror of those months is far on the other side of the world, but he can't seem to surface from the terror.

He is struggling on that beach, choking on grit and ash. There is a thick scent that was originally unknown to him. However, after several weeks on Peleliu, he became accustomed to the searing smell of fresh blood. It soaks the insides of his nostrils till he can almost feel it coming out of his eyes.

It's sweltering. The bullets rip over his head. The screams and groans of dismembered bodies that used to be men gain the maddening drone of a Greek chorus. He tries to shout but isn't able to get anything out of his burning throat. Blinking the salt of sweat from his eyes, he glances down at the sand.

The world comes to a screeching halt. It's something that hasn't ever happened in his nightmares.

The bloody sand dissolves away and he is watching his hand reach for Ellie's shirt collar. He remembers the beguiling urge to continue undoing the buttons past the first two, how she inhaled sharply before he kissed her, how soft the skin on her neck was under his fingers. He is studying the freckle at the hollow of her throat, his thumb tracing over it like a touch stone.

He is reminded of the conversation he had with Sid about what it was like to be in battle. His friend said it was on the opposite side of the spectrum from being with a girl. This is more than just sex where Ellie is concerned. He finds himself able to forget a little easier when he is with her. He enjoys her quiet presence as they walk through the woods. He wants to know what she is thinking or feeling, even if it's difficult to hear sometimes.

She is at the opposite end of the spectrum; the golden ring to reach for out of the sludge and gore.

For the first time in longer than he can remember, he sleeps soundly the rest of the night.


	6. Housewarming

The Thursday afternoon drag crashes over me like a wet blanket. It's all I can do to keep from resting my temple on my hand and closing my eyes. The slow moving ceiling fan does nothing to stir the stagnant warmth in my small office. I had opened the window a crack but it only lets in more of the unseasonably hot spring air.

I stand from my desk, my knee popping uncomfortably. Having been at it since lunch, I more than deserve a coffee break. Out in the near silent lobby, the heels on my oxfords click abrasively on marble floor. The secretaries are speaking in whispers, feeling as choked by the weather as I am.

There are male voices emanating from the employee lounge as I push open the door. Mr. York, my father's partner at the firm, is dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. He stands by the half open window, his jacket slung over the back of the chair in front of him. His shirt collar is hemmed with a damp ring and the skin on his partially bald scalp is gleaming. I glance over and see Eugene with a glass of water looking surprisingly fresh compared with the middle aged lawyer.

"Ellie! I was just getting to know Mr. Sledge here. Have you had the pleasure?" Mr. York proclaims in his booming southern drawl.

"I believe so," I manage with a grin to Eugene, "How are you this afternoon, Mr. Sledge?"

He smirks coyly, "Fine thank you, Miss Mitchell."

I break eye contact with him and make my way to the coffee pot on the counter beside him. I can't help the catch in my throat being this close to him, even as Mr. York is blathering on about last year's judicial elections. As I pour myself a cup, my wrist grazes his forearm where he has pushed up his shirt sleeve. The contact leaves my skin burning despite the humidity. Grasping the mug with both hands, I remain beside him and rest my back against the counter to face Mr. York.

"Well, I best be getting back to it then," Mr. York tucks his handkerchief into his shirt pocket and perches his half smoked cigarette between his gapped front teeth, "You two try to keep cool. It's hotter than blue blazes and it ain't even May, Lord help us all."

"Good to see you, sir." Eugene nods amiably as Mr. York gives his hand a firm shake.

"You too, son."

Mr. York is scarcely out the door when Eugene subtly reaches over and pinches my side above my hip. I skip over a step, nearly dropping my mug on the floor.

"Eugene Sledge!" I hiss, holding out the cup as a copper trail of coffee drips over my hand and down onto the tiles.

I glance up to see him grinning like school boy and find myself unable to keep a straight face. His smiles are so rare, it makes it difficult for me to look away.

"You are full of yourself, Mr. Sledge." I set the mug down on the counter and nudge his shoulder with mine.

"So it's still Mr. Sledge, huh?"

"Yes, while we are in the office." I reply, reaching for the sugar bowl.

"Fine then, Miss Mitchell. Do you have any plans for tonight?"

I cringe, "Do you remember Harvey and Kitty Lee?"

"I remember Harvey, he graduated with us, right?"

"You know Kitty too. Her maiden name was Brewer."

"Oh yeah, I had senior calculus with her." Eugene leans against the counter on his elbow, playing with a loose string on my sleeve, "She was brilliant."

"Still is. Anyway, she and Harvey got married after he got home from Europe last year." I ladle sugar into my cup, "I know, it's a strange match right?"

"You can say that. Harvey always was a tad…"

"Dense? If the boy had an idea, it would die of loneliness." I bring the cup to my mouth, "They recently moved into their new home. I am obligated to make an appearance at their house warming party tonight."

Eugene nods silently, his gaze drifting to the countertop. Absently, he brushes a few stray grains of sugar off the surface onto the floor. I know social functions haven't been easy for him lately. That night at the Ball prances through my mind.

"Obligated, huh?" He peers over at me with a half grin.

"Kitty is on the Junior League with me."

"I didn't know you were on the Junior League."

"At the behest of my mother. I haven't really felt like saying no to her lately and she has been taking advantage of it." I give a breathy chuckle, "You don't have to come with me, Eugene. It's alright. I will only be there for a moment to give her this mahogany cheeseboard as a housewarming gift. Maybe we can see each other after?"

Eugene clears his throat and stands up straight. He attempts a smile and nods to me, "No, no. Of course, I'd love to come."

"Really? I'm fine if you'd really rather not."

"It might be good to see some of the old crew again." He reaches out and brushes the hair from my shoulder thoughtfully, "Harv was always a good fella'. I'm glad to hear he found himself a nice girl."

"It's interesting. I don't ever remember seeing them even speak in high school." I take another sip from my coffee, his fingers lingering on my shoulder blade.

"Well, we didn't."

Another grin plays at the side of his mouth as he meets my eyes once more. I haven't seen him in such a good mood. As his eyes flit away towards the countertop, I can't help but hope it was wise to invite him. The last thing I want is to watch him disappear again.

We take his car over to the Lee's home after work. Eugene is casually drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as we park behind a line of cars on the side of the street. He inhales slowly, switching off the ignition. I reach into the backseat and retrieve the neatly wrapped cheeseboard.

"You sure you are up for this?" I ask quietly as I study him, desperately trying to read his mood.

He nods clandestinely before getting out of the car, "Of course. I told you I was."

After neatening my hair in the rear view mirror, I tug on my gloves. He opens the car door for me and takes my hand as I step out onto the curb. Offering me a tight lipped smile, his gaze drifts towards the voices and music coming from a ranch style home. I hand him the cheeseboard without a word.

"What do you want to do after?" I ask, straightening his tie and smoothing back the collar on his jacket.

His expression lightens, "I don't know. Would you want to get something to eat?"

"How does ice cream sound?"

"I think that's near about genius, Miss Mitchell."

"Ellie." I smirk, taking back the cheeseboard, "We're not at the office anymore."

He chuckles as we meander under the vivid new foliage lining the neighborhood.

The first person I see after stepping over the threshold is Sidney Phillips. He is chatting with another classmate of ours by the open backdoor, swirling a tumbler of bourbon in his hand. The sick dread of having to talk to him settles in my stomach like a rock. I sense Eugene loosen up at the sight of his best friend. I manage a brave smile as Sidney glances towards us.

"Now who do we have here?" Sidney crows as we reach him.

The two childhood friends grasp hands, "Invited at the last minute. So Mary let you out of planning the big day for the evening."

"We'll be right back to it the minute we leave this place, Gene. Don't ruin my few moments of peace." Sidney chortles. He looks over at me with a congenial nod, "It's good to see you, Eleanor. How have you been?"

"Good, thank you." I reply brightly, only able to meet his eyes for a moment. My heart is thudding so hard, the fringe on the front of my dress is trembling slightly, "Congratulations by the way. I ran into Mary the other day and she said y'all are almost there."

"Only a few weeks to go." Sidney lifts his glass to his lips turning to Eugene, "You got your best man speech typed up yet or what?"

"I thought I'd just wing it." Eugene smirks.

"You wing it and the Missus will have my hide."

Sid looks so cool standing there with his dimpled glass and seersucker sport coat. His curls are tamed back neatly from his forehead. A vision tramps through my mind of how he was the night before he left for training four years earlier. Sidney had ridden his bike to my house, his hair mussed by his baseball cap as he stood by the porch railing. A far cry from the man before me. I am trying not to feel like I haven't changed at all. His sea green eyes graze over me. I clutch the cheeseboard and peer past his shoulder into the backyard.

"Can I get y'all a drink?" He offers abruptly after a moment.

"I'll be leaving y'all to it." I smile, resting my hand momentarily on Eugene's elbow, "I need to find Kitty and get this to the gift table. It was nice to see you again, Sidney."

Sidney nods briefly, taking a swift pull from his glass. Eugene subtly reaches over the small distance between us and grazes his thumb on my side. Though brief, his touch relaxes me before I venture out to the gaggle of women fanning themselves on the patio.

I am beset almost immediately by Mary Houston. Per usual, she is breathtaking in a lemon yellow sundress and white cardigan that offsets her olive skin tone. After pulling me into a light embrace, she takes the offering from me and hooks my arm with hers.

"Now, Ellie, was that Eugene I saw you at the door with?" She croons under her breath, steering me towards the table with the pile of presents, "Please let it be true."

Despite being put on the spot, I find myself unable to suppress a grin, "Yes actually."

"Oh honey," She gives my hand a squeeze as we stop in front of the table, "You do like him, don't you?"

After trying my best to fight a smile, I give in with a light laugh, "Yes, Mary Houston. If you must know, I have really been enjoying his company."

She lets out a soft squeal that we can only hear, "I knew it! I knew he'd be as good for you as you are for him. He has to bring you to the wedding. He just has to!"

I glance down at my shoes briefly with a shrug, "We'll have to see if he asks me."

Honestly, the thought of watching Sidney get married leaves me so confused, I can almost feel my head spin. The rock in my stomach grows heavier. I rub my palms together and plaster a smile on my face.

"Is Kitty serving that punch she promised?" I ask.

"Yes mam," Mary's dark brows lift mischievously, "A word to the wise, she's spiked it something good this time."

I snort, "Perfect."

* * *

Sidney Phillips is trying to focus on the steering wheel. He is trying to focus on the evening breeze swirling in from the open window. He is trying to focus on Mary as she is commiserating on the latest debacle concerning seating arrangements.

But all he can see is Ellie resting her hand on Eugene's arm. Even more confounding is Eugene casually reaching over and brushing his fingers against her side.

All he can see is the smoking carnage on Guadalcanal. Dark descending like a cloak as he wrote her by the light of burning ships in the ocean beyond. His words are clear on the stained paper. He still can't believe how detailed his descriptions were to her of the horror on that damned island.

Night after night, waiting for a Jap sniper to wipe him out from history, he replayed that moment on her porch over and over. He remembered how she had inhaled sharply before he kissed her, about the freckle at the hollow of her throat, her bluebell eyes drifting closed as he had grasped her waist. Ellie Mitchell and her calm letters of reassurance rested on the other end of the spectrum from the insanity of combat.

"Did you see how happy Eugene looked?" Mary chirps brightly.

Sidney snaps out of his thoughts, "Huh?"

"Eugene with Ellie Mitchell? I think they make a lovely couple. I sure hope he figures things out soon and snatches her up, don't you?"

Swallowing hard, Sidney grins half-heartedly.

"We'll have to wait and see, darlin'."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Haha wow, this is starting to look way too much like a situation I was in during college...**

**ANYWAY, so the plot thickens! I hope yall enjoyed this chapter, it was a fun one to write.**

**Brie and Absentees: Y'alls reviews were so unbelievably sweet and encouraging, I am thrilled you guys are enjoying the story. I really appreciate that you took to time to say something. It means a lot (: **


	7. In the Moment

Thick banks of heavy, egg shell white clouds have been shifting across the sky all afternoon. There is a light breeze, stirring the humidity around us in the field. I lay with my head on Eugene's stomach, our bodies making a T shape. My eyes close against the sun as it breaks free. The warm, red gold light illuminates behind my eyelids.

I feel Eugene's hand come to rest on the crown of my head. His nimble fingers nest in the gathered strands behind my victory curls. I peek one eye open and study him. His brow is furrowed, his hazel eyes scanning across the page in his book. The silver embossed title on the forest green cover is _Birds of Alabama_. He snorts, a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth.

"Well, I believe I'm right."

"Right about what?" I ask idly, enjoying the restful sound of his voice.

"_That_." He points to an oak across the field, "The nest up there. It's a Tufted Titmouse. They are fairly common around here. I thought I heard one but I hadn't seen it yet but I'm _almost_ certain…"

His voice trails off into his thoughts as he lifts his other hand from my head and flips the page. His lower jaw juts out in deep concentration. I flip over onto my stomach, propping up on my elbows. I don't think I've seen him happier than when we are outside. Whether in the forest or fields, the specter of war that haunts him dissipates like mist in the late afternoon sunshine. He glances up from his book.

"What?"

"Nothing." I laugh, sitting up on my knees, "I like listening to you."

He sets aside the book, his eyes not leaving mine. Scooting forward on the plaid blanket laid over the spikey grass and dry weeds, he props up his leg. Eugene rests his elbow on his knee. He reaches out, his fingertips grazing the edge of my cheek bone as he tucks a curl behind the shell of my ear.

"You sure I'm not boring you?"

"Eugene Sledge." I lift an eyebrow, "If you were boring me, I'd tell you."

His head drops lightly, "I feel bad dragging you out here all the time."

"After a long day in that stuffy office, I think we deserve a little fresh air." I reply, "Would you quit feeling guilty for nothing? I like being here with you."

He glances up at me. I hold my breath as he leans forward, catching my lips with his softly before drawing away.

"Do you like being here with me?" I venture quietly, bumping our noses together.

Eugene grasps the sides of my neck, his fingers tangling up in my hair, "I wouldn't even know where to begin."

This kiss is bolder and sets my senses alight. There is an intimacy to it that hasn't before been present. His mouth kneads mine till it opens. I feel myself losing track of my surroundings. One of his hands trails down to my shoulder. I'm vaguely aware of his fingers brushing across my blouse. He cups my breast and I pull away with a sharp intake of breath.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry-" He's stuttering, sounding as winded as I feel.

"No, Eugene, it's alright," I brush my knuckles over my flushed cheeks with a half-smile, "We- we should probably have talked about this… part."

He runs a hand through his hair and stands, "I think you're right."

He tucks his hands into his pockets and trudges to the edge of the blanket, kicking at the dust. It's been a while since we've had a good rain.

"I haven't been very good at it, have I?" He scoffs.

"What do you mean?"

"Good at the talking part." He takes his pipe from his pocket.

"These things take a while." I surmise quietly, brushing out the wrinkles in my shirt, "We can talk now if you would like?"

He puffs at his pipe, the bowl glowing, "About what?"

"I don't know." I shrug, peering up at him and trying to smile, "How do you like working at the law office?"

The pipe draws back from his mouth, "I like seeing you every day."

"Is Law something you want to do with your life?"

He shakes his head, "Now you're sounding like my mother."

From his tone, I can tell this isn't a compliment. I stand, sweeping the dust from my slacks.

"Then what do you want from life?"

Eugene meets my eyes, gnawing on the stem of the pipe, "At the moment? Nothing."

"You want nothing from life?"

"Nothing at all." He murmurs, a cloud of smoke drifting from his words as he peers towards the oak tree.

"Fine." I chirp, trying to keep the hurt from showing in my voice.

There are storm clouds on the horizon that I hadn't noticed earlier. I stride across the field towards our bikes propped up by the forest path. Eugene doesn't follow me as I ride through the woods towards home.

I beat the rain by seconds, rolling through the open barn doors out back. I'm reluctant to go inside the house. My mother is no doubt having her tea by the radio in the front room, a book open in her lap. I have no interest in conversation at the moment, especially about my relationship with Eugene Sledge which is where it will no doubt lead. If she asks me one more time if he seems like he's leaning towards marriage, I may scream.

I lean up against the open barn door, the dry paint chips curling under my shoulder. There is a thunder clap and a driving sheet of rain that pock marks the driveway. My posture straightens when I see Eugene come riding through the deluge.

"What on earth-" I jump back as he pulls in.

He runs his hands through his soaked hair, the bike dropping to the sandy floor.

"That was wrong of me to say." He gasps breathlessly, "That you sounded like my mother. You don't."

Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean my back up against the old jalopy parked behind me. My brother used to drive it when he was a teenager. It's since gone to rust and ruin.

"I don't know how to talk to you about these things, Eugene." I venture gently, "It's difficult to know what will…"

_To know what will send him back into his shell_.

Eugene takes a step forward.

"What I should have told you is that I want to live in the present." He comes to a stop in front of me and grasps both my hands, our arms bridging the distance between us, "For now. Just live in the moment for a bit."

I bite my lip and nod, "I understand."

He reaches up once again to brush a curl behind my ear, "You are so patient with me."

Our foreheads rest against each other. I open my mouth to reply but am interrupted as Gretta races into the barn. Eugene hops away quickly. The strained expression on Gretta's gaunt face makes my stomach turn.

"Miss Ellie?" Gretta's thick Swedish accent ripples with concern, "I've been looking all over for you. Your father sent me after they left."

"What's happened?" I breathe.

"It's your mother. We had to call the ambulance." Gretta explains, "She collapsed."

"Which hospital?" Eugene asks, reaching out for my hand.

"Mobile City."

He leads me out into the rain towards the Ford parked in front of the house, "I'll drive."


End file.
